Because he always wore a fine Cowboy Hat. He worked in the Montana Mines, he raised Appaloosas, he refurbished tractors. He welded ... his business was called "Thunderbird". He always looked so stern too ... with his kerchief around his neck.
When he came in at my Grandmother's house Sunday evenings ... the party was over. That's because we were little and out of control. We were a pain in the ass.
We always went to my Grandmother's house on Sunday ... usually for suppper and The Ed Sullivan Show ... with Lee, Aunt Celie and their girls. I am having a flashback of Uncle Lee bad mouthing The Beatles ... while Colleen, Roxy, Wendy, and I were falling to pieces.
He and I were just getting to know each other. His move back to South Dakota with his second wife, Nola, set the wheels in motion for Ron and I to move back too. It all stared with a picnic at their place in Willow Lake in September of 2006 that set the wheels in motion.
Uncle Lee turned out to be a very mellow guy ... he said "Hi" to me from his coma when I went to see him two days before he died. I'm going to miss my Cowboy Uncle. I don't have another.